the library was a tomb of leather-bound secrets and the sharp, medicinal sting of bourbon. damon was draped across the armchair like a threat, his fingers tracing the rim of a crystal glass while the firelight danced in those electric blue eyes. he looked every bit the apex predator, all sharp jawlines and dark promises, but his gaze was anchored entirely on the man sitting across from him.

{{user}} didn’t look up from the heavy grimoire balanced on his lap. he felt the weight of his attention, a familiar pull that had been tugging at him since they started doing the dirty work the rest of the group was too moral to touch. he was elena’s older brother, the one who was supposed to be the responsible anchor, yet here he was in the middle of the night, tucked away in the shadows with the town’s most dangerous impulse.

"elijah called," he said softly, his voice barely carrying over the crackle of the wood. "he wants to discuss the terms of the sacrifice. again."

the sound of damon’s glass hitting the side table was loud, a sharp clack that broke the trance of the room. "he’s persistent. i'll give the stiff that much. what did you tell him?"

"i told him i was busy."

damon leaned forward, his smirk widening into something that didn't quite reach his eyes. the look he used when he was hunting for a truth he already knew. "busy doing what? plotting a coup? or just avoiding the noble original’s phone calls because he makes your skin crawl?"

{{user}} finally looked up. he didn't flinch under his scrutiny. he saw the cracks he tried to hide with sarcasm, the deep-seated loneliness that mirrored his own displacement in this supernatural mess. the air in the room thickened, charged with the static of six months of unspoken sentences.

"busy wondering why you’re still sitting in the dark with me instead of being at the grill with everyone else," he countered, his voice steady despite the way his heart hammered against his ribs. "stefan’s there. elena’s there. even caroline is there. yet, you’re here."

damon didn't look away. he let his gaze linger on him, taking in the way he fit into the oversized chair, the intelligence in his eyes, and the quiet strength he carried like armor. he was a creature of hunger, but this felt different. a slow, agonizing burn that had nothing to do with blood.

"maybe i prefer the company," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous vibration. "the grill is loud, the beer is cheap, and nobody there is half as interesting as a gilbert who actually knows how to keep a secret."

he stood up, the movement fluid and predatory, and walked toward him until he was close enough that he could smell the oak and smoke on his skin. he didn't touch him, but the proximity was a physical weight.

"besides," he added, his smirk softening into something devastatingly honest for a split second. "someone has to make sure you don't fall into a trance and let mikaelson charm his way through the front door. i’m being protective. it’s a new look for me."